TERROR
F.S.Flint
Eyes are tired;
the lamp burns,
and in its circle of light
papers and books lie
where chance and life
have placed them.
Silence sings all around me;
my head is bound with a band;
outside in the street a few footsteps;
a clock strikes the hour.
I gaze, and my eyes close,
slowly:
I doze; but the moment before sleep,
a voice calls my name
in my ear,
and the shock jolts my heart:
but when I open my eyes,
and look, first left, and then right ...
no one is there. |